Re Zero Ff Novels & Stories

First day back in the office. I was face down at my desk during lunch when the desk next to mine started rattling under a series of hard knocks. I looked up. It was the firm's new architect, Flora Reeves. "Lunch time ended five minutes ago. You're still asleep at your desk? Don't bother coming in tomorrow. You're fired!" I told her I had just come back from a client meeting. I had been pulling all-nighters on the project for a week. She looked at me like I was something on her shoe. "All you do is take clients out, drink with them, and scribble a few sketches. "You don't even punch in. You're barely in the office. What gives you the right to nap at your desk during work hours?" I almost laughed in her face! I was the firm's chief architect. The bulk of the projects on Walsh & Co.'s books had my name on them. The firm's success was, frankly, carried by me. She saw me out of the office most days. She did not see me in another city, on another job site, talking down another client. And in our industry, most of those clients had hired Walsh & Co. because of my name and reputation. I kept my composure. "You're not in HR. On what authority are you firing me?" She said, "On the authority that my husband is the president of this company." I went still. When did my boyfriend get married?

⚠️ ⚠️ ⚠️ Warning ? ? ? this books consist of different erotica short stories, they are not long stories, and also 18+ content ahead, if you're below 18 please refrain from reading You think I care about titles?” he asked, stepping even closer until I could feel the heat radiating from him. “Do you think that matters to me?” “It should,” I said, my voice breaking slightly. “It matters to me.” He tilted his head slightly, studying me. "Why? Why does it matter so much to you?" “Because,” I said quickly, searching for the right words. “Because people like me... we don’t belong with people like you. You’re... you’re powerful, and I’m—” “Beautiful,” he cut me off, his voice firm. I froze, my words dying on my lips. “What?” I whispered. “You’re beautiful, Sophia,” he said again, his tone softer this time. “And I’m tired of pretending I don’t notice it. You think being a maid defines you, but it doesn’t. Not to me.”

WARNING: Mature content ahead. If you're under 18 or sensitive to explicit themes, consider this your cue to stop reading. Things are about to get hot. Lust, Caution — a collection of wickedly steamy short stories designed to heat up your day... or night. Inside, you'll find a defiant secretary tangled up with her dominant CEO, a restless housewife chasing forbidden thrills, an Omega burning for Alpha attention, an innocent girl who piques the interest of the school bully. And that’s just the beginning. If you’re in the mood for mischief, desire, and deliciously sinful tension, then come closer. This book was written just for you.

Woody Henderson takes the fall for his brother-in-law. During the four years he spends in jail, he picks up various medical skills and becomes a doctor who makes miracles happen. Aside from his medical prowess, he also gains power.The affluent and powerful all come knocking on his door, but he gives it all up so he can return to his wife's side. Yet all he gets in return are divorce papers.His ex-wife says, "You're a former convict. You're no longer worthy of me, especially now that I'm most beautiful and successful CEO around."

You’re not supposed to want straight men. Carson Bitters wants nothing more than to feel his secretary inside him. He dreams of it every day. You’re not supposed to fall in love with them. They won’t love you back. But Carson can’t stop longing for Asher Hall; the man his homophobic father handpicked for him. A living, breathing, giant NO. And yet, every time Asher speaks, every glance, every careless brush of his hand, Carson finds himself wanting more. Needing more. And what starts as longing could destroy everything, or make it unforgettable.

“Hey little brother, wanna get married? Here are nine bucks, it’s on me!”Just like that, Cecelia Shayne gave herself away with nine bucks.Consequently…The random cutie she dragged off the street? He’s a poor good-for-nothing who needs her to tend to his every need.However, there’s nothing she can do.This is a husband she bought, and she needs to swallow this somehow.But… But…Why does his name seem to be the same as the owner of a certain conglomerate…?What?Asset transfer?Cecelia was shocked. “Why’re you giving me all this money?”William Sandler looked her dead in the eye, “Money’s yours, you’re mine!”

I hear the rumors being spread about me in the pack. The whisper that I'm barren. "Why are you not pregnant yet, Delilah? It's not that hard to spread your legs and lay there, right?" I look down at the two pink lines on the test and smile. It's all going to change now. I went to tell him, and caught my mate cheating on me with my best friend. "He never loved you. We were together before he discovered you, " my best friend says. "He's only with you because he wants an heir," she says quietly. "You're his fated mate. He needed you." "Needed me for what? To play house while you two had your fun?" "To have his baby," she admitted. "Only a child from his fated mate can guarantee the Alpha genes." I was nothing but the tool who was now pregnant with the cheating Alpha's kid. "You're not walking away from this." Castor said, "We have obligations. You have obligations. You don't get just to walk away. None of us do." Tears blurred my vision, but I refused to let them fall. "You're unbelievable." I struggled to pull free, but his grip tightened around my wrist, and I was yanked more each time I resisted. He leaned down, his face inches from mine. "You'll come home with me right now, or I swear, I'll make your life a living hell. You're my wife. My property. And you'll do what I say now." "No, Castor. This is over," I said, backing away. "I'm done being your pawn." "You'll never be done with me," he said, tightening his grip on my waist. "You're mine, Lila. You always will be." "Watch me," I retorted, yanking my arm free. I will leave Castor, no matter the cost.

My Alpha series book 3 (Standalone) "You tried to fucking kill your own mate! What the hell's wrong with you?" he growled harshly, but I refused to cower as I spoke coldly, masking my fear of him and refusing to let him know how terrified of him I really am. "You killed my brother, brother trumps mate" "Your brother had it coming" he snarled. "That's what you want to believe? Fine. I guess that means I have it coming now too. Go ahead, tear out my heart, it's already dead anyway" I said genuinely, meaning every word because death's rather merciful compared to what he's capable of doing to me as punishment for trying to kill him. There're things a lot worse and scarier than death, believe me I'd know because I've already lived them and I do not wish on experiencing them again especially by him, my mate. My heart's dead but he's the only one capable of bringing it back to life only to obliterate it into pieces. "Oh no, I spent a fortune buying you even though you're not worth a dime. You owe me a lot of money, mate. I'm going to make that dead, cold heart of yours mine and I'm going to enjoy the hell out of shattering it while you're still alive" he promised darkly as his hand tightened around my neck. I couldn't say anything back, I saw the hellfire he plans to burn me in through his eyes and there was nothing I could do or say to save myself from it, from him. "You're my slave now, you do everything I ask you to do without objections or face the consequences of disobeying. Start praying slave, you're going to need it especially if you don't tame that smart mouth of yours"

They were supposed to be on the same team. Santos Khyle arrived in Seattle as the Soul Reapers' most anticipated rookie in years, a natural-born scorer with something to prove and a chip on his shoulder the size of a regulation puck. Gunner Jäger had been tearing up the ice as the team's feared enforcer for two seasons, and he had zero interest in sharing his spotlight with some orange-haired twenty-one year old who looked at him like he was a problem to be managed. From the moment they met, it was war. On the ice, they were a disaster. Off it, they were worse. Screaming matches in corridors. Fists through locker room walls. A live on-air brawl that made every highlight reel in North America and earned them both a suspension, a lecture from their furious coach, and the undivided attention of the entire hockey world. Nobody could stand to watch them together. Nobody could look away either. Because underneath the fury and the bruises and the months of spectacular mutual destruction, something else was building. Something neither of them had language for yet. Something that felt uncomfortably like the only fight either of them was actually afraid to lose. The Soul Reapers are one playoff run away from everything. Gunner and Khyle are one honest conversation away from falling apart completely. Or maybe, just maybe, from finally figuring out what they are to each other. Pucking Up the Ice is a slow burn MM romance set in the brutal and beautiful world of professional hockey. It contains explicit language, on-ice violence, emotional gut punches, two men who are absolutely terrible at feelings, and a love story that had to break everything before it could build something worth keeping.

Hands. So many hands. They're everywhere, sliding up my thighs, gripping my hips, tangling in my hair. I can't see their faces, but I don't need to. I feel them. Three of them, surrounding me, claiming me. One behind me, his chest pressed against my back, his breath hot against my neck. Another in front, his mouth trailing fire down my throat. The third watching, waiting, his presence a dark promise.* "You're ours," one of them growls, and the sound vibrates through my entire body.